


Cookie Dough and Cuddles

by ficletsandthelike (schulia_jet)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Lance (Voltron), M/M, Romantic Fluff, Sick Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 15:41:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14980292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schulia_jet/pseuds/ficletsandthelike
Summary: Lance manages, somehow, to be the one in a million guy to get salmonella from cookie dough. Keith is forced to be his knight in a cropped sweatshirt, and ends up with more than he bargained for- not that he's complaining.





	Cookie Dough and Cuddles

Keith was yanked into consciousness by the unceremonious buzzing of his phone. He cracked one eye open, glaring at the offending object, and rolled over. He only had a moment of reprieve before the droning persisted, and he sighed, grabbing around on his bedside table until he found and brought the phone to his ear. 

“Mhn?”

“Keith! Dude, I’ve been calling for like ten minutes!” Pidge’s frustrated voice piped straight into his eardrums, and any hopes Keith had of returning to dreamland dissipated.

“It’s-” Keith glanced at the clock. “-five in the morning, Pidge. Why would I be doing anything except sleeping?” “Right, whatever. Anyways, you kind of need to come over,” Pidge responded. Keith blinked. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, it’s Lance.” Keith rolled his eyes. “Pidge, I’m his roommate, not his babysitter. If you guys want food or something, go get it yourselves.” Pidge huffed with exasperation on the other end. “No, dumbass. He woke up an hour ago and started throwing up, and I was wondering if that shady Chinese food you guys ate yesterday was the culprit.” 

“It was cheap, not shady. Besides, I feel fine, so he probably stuffed his face more than usual and couldn’t handle it,” Keith replied. Pidge sighed. “Sounds good. We’ve got Pepto Bismol in the cabinet, so I’ll call if it gets worse.” “Alright; now leave me alone. I have at least three more hours of sleep before I can handle a sick Lance.” The other line clicked, and Keith put his phone back on his table. He made a mental note to grab soup on the way to pick up Lance later, and let his eyes drift shut.

Keith was more than a little irritated when a certain persistent buzzing woke him up for the second time that day. He considered ignoring it completely, but reluctantly answered when he saw “Pidgeon” as the caller ID. “It is now seven, which, if I’m right, is not three hours of sleep, brainiac.”

Hunk’s panicked breathing sounded through the speaker. “Keith, we’re on our way to the hospital. Lance spiked a fever, and the vomiting got worse, and then he passed out and the paramedic said it was salmonella-” Keith bolted upright, suddenly wide awake. “Oh my god. I’m coming now.” He leaped out of bed and grabbed his jacket. Hunk tried to say something else, but Keith ended the call and practically sprinted down the hallway.

He rolled his ankle on his way down the stairs and hopped, cursing, into his car, twisting the key and slamming hard on the gas. It took an odd look from his neighbor to realize he was going fifty in a residental zone, and Keith slowed and tried to compose himself. 

“It’s fine. He’s already in the hospital, and it’s just salmonella, right?” Keith mumbled to himself. “That’s just… that’s just like the flu. I’ll have to baby him for a couple of days and Lance’ll be fine. Fine.” His heart continued to race, but Keith ignored the feeling for the rest of the ride.

He yanked open the glass doors of the emergency room a little harder than he meant, but managed to get to Lance’s room in record time, maybe thanks to the death glare he kept trained on the receptionist.

“Pidge? Hunk? You guys here?” Keith poked his head through the doorway, but no one answered. He noticed a familiar mess of chocolate hair and ran over, breathing a sigh of relief at the peaceful rise and fall of Lance’s chest underneath the plastic gown. 

Lance’s eyes started to flutter open, and Keith jumped, pretending to fidget with the bedside lamp.

“Keeeeeeith? What’re you doing here?” Lance sleepily said. “Pidge and Hunk called and said you were dying of salmonella. I wasn’t just going to leave you to suffer, or try to use my insurance,” Keith retorted. “I’m going to use the bathroom.” He turned to leave, but Lance caught his sleeve.

“Please stay,” Lance pouted. Keith sighed and took a seat on the bed, prompting Lance to drag him into an awkward cuddle of sorts. “If you weren’t sick, I would kick you onto the floor right now,” Keith grumbled. Lance only giggled in response. “Even if I told you I liiiiked you?”

Keith tensed. “How much medicine did they give you?” Lance only giggled harder. “Not a lot, but I’m really hot- I mean, with a fever… or both.” He flung an arm over Keith. “You’re comfy, which is nice. I thought you might be too muscly for hugs.”

By then, Keith’s face was boiling hot. He wanted to escape Lance’s grip, but he didn’t want to cause a commotion, which Lance’s vocal cords were fully prepared to do.

On the other hand, Lance’s chest felt pleasantly warm against his back, and the way his hair tickled the back of Keith’s neck-

He shook his head and slowly turned over, ready to push away. He was met with the relaxed features of a sleeping Lance, still cradling Keith in his arms like an oversized stuffed animal. His eyelashes fluttered, and Keith’s heart did the same.

His hand carefully twined into Lance’s hair. Lance mumbled and moved his leg in between Keith’s, and Keith felt as if he could melt. The hospital bed was lumpy and smelled off, but Keith drifted off to sleep more comfortable than he had in a long time.


End file.
